He didn’t like the idea of sneaking around, but he didn’t need the front-desk staff guessing why he was going up to Monica’s room all the time.He took a deep breath and then knocked on her door.Behind the door he heard the squeak of the bed, and he smiled. She was home. She was here. He was totally unprepared for the wild rush of excitement that squeak unleashed in him. The door opened, revealing Monica, still wearing the skirt and Tweety shirt she’d been wearing earlier, and that, too, was in total accordance with his plan.They grinned at each other for what felt like a full minute.“What’s in that bag?” she finally asked.Having forgotten, he lifted it. “Dinner. Cora’s fried chicken. I know it’s late, but—”“It’s perfect. Come on in.”She stepped aside and he walked into her room, letting the door close behind him. Suddenly, the room was alive with what had happened the last time he was in here.This is where we kissed. This is where she touched me. This is where I stood and watched her touch herself.He tried to push away the memories so he could at least feed her.
